


Reminder

by krasati



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, a tad dysfunctional fam but lots of love there, batfam, behind the grunts and emotional stuntedness, damian-centric, some of the batfam aint here but mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2019-02-02 06:35:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12721473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krasati/pseuds/krasati
Summary: Damian, bitter and benched in the Batcave, while the rest of the Bats were out on a case. Things changed when the Red Hood was dragged back to the Batcave, heavily injured.





	Reminder

Red Hood must have been stabbed badly - Damian gathered, from Nightwing’s panicked shouts through the comms.

Robin should have been at the scene. High level mercenaries were hiding out in Gotham, and Robin and Batman had planned over a week to smoke them out for their arrest. Black Bat and Batgirl were off with Oracle on another case, so Batman really needed all hands on deck. Damian insisted Robin to be there, but _nooo, there’s school tomorrow and you better stay in the manor or there will be consequences Damian_. Damian almost threw a book at Drake when he snickered. And now one of them was bleeding out while he sat uselessly in his pyjamas with his fists clenched in the Batcave.

The Batmobile roared into the driveway along with Nightwing on his Wingcycle. Batman yanked the door opened just as Nightwing leapt towards the car, and the Red Hood, helmet gone, was carefully but hurriedly carried out of the vehicle into the medbay.

“What happened?” Damian asked Drake, who was peeling the domino mask from his face. Damian’s nose wrinkled at the waft of blood off him.

“He took a hit meant for me,” Drake said quietly. A hit? Damian squinted at the bloody end of a large harpoon that Drake was holding.

“Well,” Damian said after a beat, “Your own fault for being weak,”

Drake shot a murderous glare, and Damian shifted his body instinctively into defensive.

Yet Drake sighed, dragging his feet towards the Bat-monitor. To upload tonight’s report first, Damian supposed.

Damian grabbed a clean towel from the drawer and threw it at Drake’s head.

“Oh,” Drake blinked, using the now blotchy red towel to wipe at his face, “Thank you,”

“Maybe get yourself fixed up in the medbay instead of staining your disgusting blood everywhere,” Damian sneered.

Drake tensed, before he started to wipe at his costume as well. “Not my blood,” Drake muttered under his breath, turning his attention towards the computer.

Huh, Damian thought, an uneasy feeling clenched in his chest. He began to make his way towards the medbay when Drake’s voice stopped him, “Also, Damian, go to bed,”

“You don’t have the right-“

“Damian,” Drake cut him off, staring at him intensely, “Just- Bruce and Dick will be - they need to focus now, ok? Jason lost a lot of blood and- they will want you to rest. You have school tomorrow. We can handle it for now, but thank you for staying up with us,”

Damian stared back.

Drake scrunched his nose, “Or, that’s what Dick would say. I think?”

“Ok,” Damian shrugged. Drake seemed taken aback.

“Night, Drake,” Damian said. Drake might be hiding a smile, or a smirk, under his glove, “Night, Robin.”

———————  
   
Of course, Damian would not go to bed, not when he wasn’t sure if Jason Todd was dying again. Damian hadn’t really met him personally, other than the few teamups (or clashes) when Red Hood crossed paths with the Bats. Back then, Batman had warned them to stay away from Red Hood, but everyone broke the rule one after another. Robin as well, especially when Nightwing, Batgirl, Black Bat, Oracle, and even Red Robin vouched he wasn’t crazy anymore.

Robin had worked with Red Hood a few times, sometimes out of necessity, sometimes a coincidence, sometimes out of curiosity to know the person behind the suit in the display case. An ex-Robin. An ex- _dead_ Robin. One who apparently changed everything here - or so Richard had replied softly, in those cryptic answers to uncomfortable questions Damian asked. One who even Mother was fond of - _like a son_ was unsaid.

Red Hood and Robin had gotten along fine these days; harmless snark thrown back and forth, with none of his blazing guns aimed at Robin. Red Hood made it a point to remind everyone that he was not nice, which Damian didn’t understand why he had to try so hard, when none of the Bats was nice. Granted, Jason could be more of an asshole than expected at times, but he also had taken the brunt of the fall for Damian in one of the jobs. And well, he nearly died getting harpooned for Drake.

(And once: both Batgirl and Robin were gazing at the display case in silence after being benched by Batman for _stupid mistakes_ \- both stiffened when he yelled, though Batgirl was staring not at the whip of Batman’s cape as he stormed away, but at the case, because everything came back, at the core of it, to _that_ - and that’s when Stephanie interrupted his thoughts and whispered, soft yet indignant, into his ear, “He died for his mother. He didn’t die for nothing. He didn’t die over a mistake. Don’t let Batman lie to you. He died what Robin was supposed to be. He died a hero. Remember that.”)

Red Hood was competent, Damian had to admit. Jason had his secrets, had training from both Batman and the League, had wielded Ra’s signature blade that occasionally made him a little jealous he never got to finish Mother’s training. Damian would have asked him to teach him the rest if they knew each other better. But other than on professional grounds, Damian barely knew the man. None of the Bats do - if most knew nothing about the Jason then, what could be said about their knowledge of the Jason now? Still, Jason’s presence haunted the manor even when he was no longer dead, leaving wistful sadness on Richard’s and Alfred’s faces. Father’s face always had a strange expression when Jason was the topic at hand. Red Hood however, had a different - though equally strange - reaction on Batman.

But Damian knew that sometimes Jason sneaked into the manor to see Alfred. He caught Jason walking out of the kitchen once, in a red hooded jacket, sporting a white streak in his hair Damian did not remember to be in photos. (Then again, those photos were in more than one way outdated, with Jason and Father _smiling_.) Damian had glared suspiciously as Jason waved with a “Hello, brat,” as he sauntered out of the door. First time he heard Jason’s voice without a modulator. In the kitchen the air smelled faint of earl grey as Alfred carried two empty cups over to the sink.

Now Alfred was leaving the medbay, his dress shirt stained with blood. His lips were set in a grim line and Damian hid further in the shadows behind the pillar. As Alfred made his way to the cave exit he said aloud, “Go to bed Master Damian, or your brother will make you,”

Damian twitched. Alfred had omnipresent power in the manor, as everyone noted.

Or, Damian was just losing his touch.

Grumbling, he sneaked into the medbay to find Father and Richard looking awful and tired, sitting on the chairs beside Jason, who looked worse - way too pale and much younger than he would carry himself.

“I’ll watch him,” Father said with a gruff.

“He’s-“ Richard protested, stopping when Father placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Get some rest,” Father chided, voice gentle, “I’ll follow soon,”

“Well,” Richard huffed, “I doubt when he wakes up he wants us to be around, but I, I don’t want him to-“

“I know,” Father said, if his voice wavered a little Richard said nothing. Instead he pulled Father into an one-armed hug, before moving towards Jason to whisper something in his ear. Damian was sure he shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be watching this, because this had been a family before the Joker ripped it apart, and what’s left was antiseptic and blood, tense with painful history that Damian was not - had yet - to be a part of.

Richard pressed a kiss to Jason’s forehead and took his leave. And when Father was sure that Richard was gone, he took Jason’s hand and held it.

Jason stirred.

“Bruce?” he rasped, clearly still drifting in and out of his head.

“Hello Jason,” Father said, voice with more care than Damian had ever heard him speak with, “you are safe. You will be alright,”

“You’re here,” Jason whispered shakily.

Father squeezed his hand, “I’m here.”

“I-“ Jason started, before shuddering, and Bruce gently tugged the blanket higher over him, careful with the drips and wires around.

“Yes, Jay?”

“D-Did you, did you love me?” Jason asked, sounding very small.

Father stilled.

“Back when I was Robin - or was I just replacing-“

“ _No_ ,”

Damian flinched as Jason cowed into the sheets.

 _Just say what you want to say Bruce for fuck’s sake_. Richard had a temper he pretended not to exist especially when Damian was around, but even Damian understood why he was so frustrated with Father sometimes. He wondered if Richard knew about Damian’s bugs and his sneaking around.

“No,” Father insisted vehemently, “You weren’t Dick’s replacement. You were my son. You are still my son. I-“ Father’s voice was cracking, unused to saying these things. But Jason had already drifted off to deep sleep from the morphine pumping steady into his blood stream.

Father pressed Jason’s hand to his own cheek before tucking his arm under the blanket. He stayed on guard, checking the temperature and the monitors occasionally.

“Go to bed Damian,” Father said, without the harsh gravel most of his orders had.

Damian tiptoed back to his room, only to crash into Richard waiting at the door.

Damian stiffened.

Richard dragged his hand down his face. “It’s been a long day,” he murmured, placing a hand on Damian’s shoulder to tug him into the room.

“Come on,” his brother said with a smile, “sleep now. But if you are falling asleep in class I will write you an excuse note,”

“Oh?” Damian couldn’t help widening his eyes.

Richard laughed, ruffling Damian’s hair, “Yes little bro,”  
—————  
   
Either Jason was dreaming, or he was actually in his old room in the Wayne Manor, with Damian Wayne sitting in the chair staring right at him. 

“What in the fresh hell,” Jason blinked and rubbed his eyes. Damian’s unamused face remained in his sight.

“You’re awake,” Damian said stiffly. Jason had to do a double take because that could have been _Talia_ , even if Damian did not have the air of poise that surrounded her.

They might have been engaged in a staring contest for a minute or two when Jason gave in with a sigh, “What time is it”

“You have been asleep for ten hours. I have returned early from school for this Todd,”

Jason furrowed his eyebrows.

“Last night, you asked Father if - well,” Damian hesitated, giving him a Look like he was supposed to know what he was talking about. Jason didn’t, for his head felt like shit and god, his stomach was freaking speared just yesterday-

But Damian pressed on, “And you were pathetic enough to fall back asleep, so I am here to remind you-”

“Hold on, what are you-“

“-he said: he did, and he still does. Love you, I mean,”

And if Jason flinched at the last part and snarled, Damian didn’t care, because he had passed the message and cleaned up Batman’s mess, because he was Robin and Damian Wayne, who carried the duty and burden of keeping Batman’s shit and Wayne family’s shit together.

“You weren’t Richard’s replacement,” Damian declared to Jason’s increasingly incredulous stare, “All past Robins were just placeholders for the real heir. Me.”

Then dragging his school bag along, Damian triumphantly walked out of his room, to Jason’s complete bewilderment.

**Author's Note:**

> Nasty shippers please leave....  
> This work is for Damian because what a boy.  
> The canon is taken from post-crisis generally, until a certain point, with the handwaved of certain parts, of course.


End file.
